


Divine Healing

by Septembers_coda



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Comfort Sex, Erotica, Healing Sex, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Magical Healing Cock, Rating:NC17, Romance, Wings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-07
Updated: 2013-03-07
Packaged: 2017-12-04 12:56:29
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,831
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/711012
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Septembers_coda/pseuds/Septembers_coda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This fic takes place as an alternative to 7.17, The Born-Again Identity. Sam is unravelling more by the moment, sleep-deprived and tormented by Lucifer. But by far the worst torment is believing Cas is dead. No one knows why-- not Dean, not even Lucifer. Or does he? When Cas returns to heal Sam, is it real, or another terrible torment from the devil?</p><p>"You wished to be lying half-naked with me in an empty hunter's cabin, at the end of the world, with only the touch of a disgraced angel to hold all of hell's torment at bay?"</p>
            </blockquote>





	Divine Healing

Sam stumbled along the railroad tracks, blind, wretched, broken. He was not so much running from Lucifer as he was running toward death. It seemed the only solution, but he knew he would never catch it. There was no escape for him. In all of his existence, in all of the ugly world, there was only this pain, this exhaustion, this heartbreak.

He drifted off, his eyes closing even as he ran. His body relentlessly pursued escape, survival, ignoring Sam's desire to give up, his assertion that nothing that was chasing him was real. Electric shocks, the ravening teeth of Hellhounds, the flames of Lucifer's taunts swirled around him, but he was woken by a jolt to his real body as he collided with someone of solid flesh. He tried not to look into his face as the man protested-- would it be Lucifer? Bobby, begging Sam not to kill him? Dean, staring into Sam's eyes as Sam stood watching while he was turned into a vampire? It didn't matter. When the drug dealer said he could knock Sam out, he followed him like a lamb that can only pray it is being led to slaughter.

He was alone in the swirling flames for only a few moments before the world shattered in breaking glass. White light washed over him, and this time it was Castiel who came to torment Sam. Oh, God, Cas. No. Anything but this. No one knew what was inside him about this: not Dean, not Cas himself, not even Lucifer. Or so he'd thought.

Cas gazed at Sam with such believable, infinite compassion that Sam wept. "Not you, Cas. Please, not you. You're not real. It's not real..."

"I am real, Sam." Sam tried to escape, to stumble away, but somehow ended up stumbling closer to Cas, who reached toward him, an ocean of regret in his endlessly blue eyes.

"I am sorry, Sam," he said, and placed one cool finger between Sam's eyes, and Sam was gone.

***

 _I must have died,_ thought Sam, and a flood of blissful relief filled him. His second thought was that he did not seem to be in hell. Everything was soft and pale, and he was warm, curled on his side, and... not alone. A solid presence lay against his back. As he came into his own skin, gradually, he became aware of an arm draped around him, under his shirt, a hand pressed to his bare belly. He gasped and stiffened, coming completely awake. Who was with him? Was it the drug dealer? He began to struggle, then:

"Sam. Do not struggle. You must not break the connection."

Connection? Oh, that familiar voice... his heart contracted painfully. "Cas?"

"I am here. I am sorry, Sam. I have not been able to heal you. This is the only way to keep Lucifer at bay."

Sam squirmed, struggling to turn toward the voice. Cas's grip on him tightened, but he helped him to turn over, so they were face to face.

Oh, God. Cas was here, alive, and so close... As he turned toward him, Sam realized he had never been so close to Cas. His face was only inches away. And... his arm was around him, his hand hot as it slid to Sam's back as he changed position. Why? And... why _under_ his shirt? He checked, looking down at himself. He was fully dressed, in white hospital scrubs for some reason. As far as he could tell, Cas was dressed too, in a T-shirt that looked like an undershirt, and khaki pants. On the floor of bare boards next to their bed-- they were in bed, Sam realized with a jolt-- there was a nerdy blue sweater, in a hastily-discarded ball. No trenchcoat in sight.

Sam's T-shirt was pushed up, and Cas's forearm rested against his bare skin under it. "Cas... what?" He could find no further words.

"I apologize for invading your space. It is necessary. The connection to the divine. It appears that it requires skin-to-skin contact. I am attempting to heal the wall that Death put in place." A long, breathing pause, and Sam could _feel_ the flood of regret and sorrow. "That I took down. Sam. There are no words."

Sam closed his eyes. Everything was dissolving. His memories of hell, his agony of self-loathing over the unleashing of the apocalypse, and Dean, Dean's distrust and woundedness and hopelessness... all were swirling away. Cas was alive.

"You're alive," he said, and felt the muscles of his face stretch in a foreign way-- it hurt, tenderly-- and as he fell asleep, he remembered what this was. He was smiling.

***

When he woke again, he remembered. He opened his eyes distrustfully, squinting, cringing as he anticipated Lucifer's taunts. There were none; all was blissfully quiet. He looked around himself now. They were in what seemed to be a one-room hunter's cabin, much like one of Rufus's or Bobby's, but cleaner. Bare log walls, bare board floors, and a bed in the middle of it. The sweater on the floor, and nothing else. The room was empty of other furniture. There were windows that flooded the room with silver light, like that of early spring in the mountains, and showed a suggestion of trees outside. That was all. It felt very far away from everything.

"Cas?" His voice came out rusty, hoarse.

"Sam." He jumped slightly; the voice was right in his ear, though no part of Cas was in sight. He felt Cas' arm around him still, firmly, exactly as it had been before. And then he saw him, face inches away. He started.

"Apologies," said Cas. "I thought you might feel more comfortable if you could not see me."

"No," said Sam, and stopped. The strangeness assaulted him suddenly. "Cas? You survived? Where are we? Where's Dean? Is he OK? What happened to you? Why--" He looked down at himself, at Cas's arm looped around his torso.

"Dean is well. He may begin to worry for you soon. I do not know what happened to me." He paused, and carefully flattened his hand on Sam's belly. 

Sam surpressed a shudder at this touch. He did not know what it was that coursed through him at this simple movement of Cas's hand, but he... needed it. He clutched Cas's hand with both of his, pressed it harder against him.

"Yes," said Cas, as if in answer to something Sam had said. "You feel the connection to the divine. I do not know why I still have it, but... my grace seems to be healing you. I cannot put the wall back up, Sam. I am sorry. I cannot apologize enough for removing it. I have never regretted anything more, except perhaps..."

He stopped. Sam knew what he regretted. He did not press the issue. He couldn't really concentrate, anyway. This... connection to the divine, as Cas called it. That was not what Sam would have said it was. Perhaps he knew something Cas did not. Because it was not the relief from torment, the fact that he had slept-- a long time, it felt like-- or any sort of healing from heaven. It was not these things that made Sam's pulse quicken, goose bumps raising the hair on his arms, or made a feeling of slow, intense pleasure mixed with a sort of fear swirl in his belly beneath Cas's hand. Cas didn't know. Dean didn't know. Even Sam had not been sure, for years. But now, ever since he thought Cas had died, he knew. He loved Cas.

He remembered the first time he looked into Cas's face... the beauty he saw there, the glow of white light that was perhaps only in his mind. His heart was healed by this first sight. The divine _existed._ There were angels as well as demons, good to balance out the exhausting, horrifying tide of evil he and Dean had been fighting their whole lives. And... Cas looked as an angel should, as Sam had always thought they would, rumpled trenchcoat notwithstanding. He had told himself that was all he felt... a religious sort of attraction to Cas, as proof that his prayers had not been futile. But did that explain the scorching jealousy he felt at the attention Cas paid to Dean? The feeling of intense loneliness and longing he felt each time Cas left them? Above all, did it explain why the worst torment, including all that Lucifer could visit upon him and his own guilt for the terrible mistakes he had made, had been that Cas was dead?

"No," he moaned, and pressed himself closer to Cas, reaching up to clutch him. What if this was Lucifer's most diabolical deception yet? What if he had learned what Sam felt, and simply brought this vision of Cas to him so he could tear it away, along with the last shreds of Sam's sanity?

Was that an echo of demonic laughter he heard?

Sam's heart leapt as Cas, instead of pushing him away as Sam had feared, leaned into Sam's embrace, tightening his arm around him. "Do you hear Lucifer?" 

He nodded into Cas's shoulder, and felt Cas nod briskly in response. "Yes. I hear him sometimes, too. That is why... I had to increase the surface of our skin that was touching. When I first brought you here, with only my hand upon your arm, you struggled in your sleep. I could hear echoes of Lucifer as I tried to heal you. When I put both hands upon you, it was less. So I... removed some of my clothing, and moved some of yours, and it quieted you. You slept for a long time and I... did not hear anything."

Sam lay still, his head pressed to Cas's shoulder. Undeniable heat was building in his belly, spreading to his groin... was that a catch in Cas's breathing? Did Sam imagine the slight, caressing movement of Cas's hand on his back?

Experimentally, he hitched closer to Cas, and was sure that he heard him exhale sharply this time. Slowly, he turned his head so that his cheek, then his lips, brushed Cas's neck, and then... _then,_ Cas clutched him hard and did not ease his grip.

"Maybe we should... remove more of our clothing," Sam murmured, exhaling against Cas's neck.

There was a short, breathing pause. "Yes," Cas said, and carefully drew one arm away from Sam, still clutching him with the other. He sat up halfway and pulled his shirt off, one-armed, over his head. Sam could not take his eyes off the pale, smooth torso that was revealed. He reached for it instantly, caressing Cas's sides and back, all fear and self-consciousness left behind in his craving for Cas's skin. He was rewarded by Cas's soft moan.

"Yours, too," Cas said, pressing Sam's hand securely to his side to safeguard the connection. Sam held on while Cas eased his shirt up under his armpits, then Cas held tightly around Sam's waist while Sam pulled his shirt off over his head. Two white T-shirts joined the nerdy blue sweater on the floor.

Sam lowered his arms slowly around Cas's shoulders. His heart hammered in his chest, but he felt suddenly, intensely shy and overwhelmed. Cas felt it, too. He remained propped on his arms, frozen, and did not settle back against Sam. His expression was shellshocked, utterly confused. Had he ever even touched someone like this before, Sam wondered? Did he know what was happening? Or did he think Sam only sought-- even tolerated-- Cas's touch because it saved him from Lucifer?

His mind was clearing now. He had slept a long time, and Lucifer was gone, and Cas was alive. His heart lifted immeasurably as he looked up into Cas's face. He smiled, and Cas looked startled, as if he did not know what this expression meant.

Sam chuckled softly and gripped Cas's shoulders, willing him to relax. "Bet neither of us was expecting _this,_ huh?" He touched Cas's face tentatively, and Cas closed his eyes. Sam decided to bite the bullet and plunged forward bravely. "Even if... I might have wanted it. Fantasized about it, even." He swallowed, looking into Cas's face tentatively for his response.

Cas frowned. "You wished to be lying half-naked with me in an empty hunter's cabin, at the end of the world, with only the touch of a disgraced angel to hold all of hell's torment at bay?"

Sam snorted. The laughter was pulled from him, and he let it flow; it healed him almost as much as Cas's touch. He pulled Cas down, carelessly knocking him off his forearms so that he fell into him, letting all of his tenderness, thwarted desire, and pleasure in Cas's mere presence wash through him as he clutched him close. Cas lay still, vibrated by Sam's laughter, tense in his arms.

Sam rubbed his back. "Well, can't say I thought of the rest of it. How could I have? But... half-naked with you? Yeah. So many times, Cas."

The silence became loaded, so Sam fumbled quickly to fill it. "As for the end of the world, isn't it always the end of the world with me and Dean? So that's no surprise. But this hunter's cabin.... I dunno; whose is it? It doesn't really look familiar--"

"You wished to be half-naked with me?" Cas interrupted. He was still tense, staring straight ahead, not returning any of Sam's tentative caresses.

Sam froze, and his heart sank. Plummeted, really. Oh, God. Had he made a terrible mistake? Cas wasn't romantically interested in him! He was really that innocent, and didn't know what Sam was after when he started undressing them. He only touched Sam because he felt he owed it to him, to save him from Lucifer... He let go of Cas and moved his hands between them, covering his burning face. Humiliation coursed through his veins like acid. Again... was that cruel laughter he heard?

"Sam." Cas's hands enclosed his, pulled them from his face. "Don't. I did not know. I would not presume. But any way in which you welcomed my presence, my touch, would be most welcome to me."

Sam held perfectly still, waiting for the laughter, the crash, as Cas's words sunk in. He could not speak, but Cas continued.

"I did not know I had... what you humans would call 'feelings for you' . It was not-- perhaps _is_ not-- appropriate for me to feel. I thought it was my old vulnerability, nothing more." He paused, looking down at Sam, and as Sam stole a glance at his face, his expression was ineffably tender. Sam sighed deeply, allowing Cas's words to wash over him as sweetly as his touch had done.

"I was known for it in heaven. Mocked, often enough. Even centuries ago, if I had cause to visit earth, I would be caught standing in a human habitation, lost in my contemplation of the curve of a child's cheek, the dazzling fascination of a sculptor's strong fingers at their intricate work, the curls of a woman's hair in the sunlight as she worked in the fields. Sometimes other angels were sent to fetch me from my reverie. It was most embarrassing.” He paused, looking down at Sam. “When I came to you and Dean, when I observed your powerful beauty, I thought it was more of the same."

" _My_... beauty? Or Dean's?" Sam couldn't hold back the words.

"Dean is also beautiful," said Cas in monotone, and Sam's heart sank. "I came to him first, and when I raised him from perdition, I felt an angel's love. I enjoyed the sight of him as we worked together, whenever I was allowed to visit him."

Sam was devastated. He'd suspected this many times, when he looked at Cas gazing at Dean, but the pain of it still blindsided him. He tried to blink back the tears that rose to his eyes. But Cas kept speaking.

"I knew Dean for some time before I met you. And when I did, I knew that you had the touch of a demon on you. Even more than with other humans, I was not supposed to look at you with... aesthetic pleasure, let alone anything more. But I could not help myself. At first, I believed this vessel was attracted to you, and that was why I could not keep my eyes from you, could not stop myself from longing for your presence when we were apart. Could not stop myself from looking in on you, invisible, far more often than I had the right to. But Jimmy Novak and I speak sometimes. And he confirmed that, while he agrees that you are a very handsome man, the pleasure I felt looking at you, in being in your presence, was mine alone." Cas cleared his throat. "And far greater than anything I felt for Dean, or for any other human. Ever."

Sam was suddenly, vividly aware of every place that his skin touched Cas's. Aware of the length of his body too, clothed and unclothed parts, pressed to his, down to where their socked feet rested together under the soft, white comforter. His breath came faster as he dared to look up again, Cas's face inches from his, so paralyzingly beautiful.

“So...” Sam allowed his hands to move, up Cas's shoulders, fingers curling against the nape of his neck. He watched with satisfaction as Cas's eyes closed and his lips parted. “So this is OK with you? Having to... touch me, to keep Lucifer away?”

“It is more than OK. Except for the guilt I feel, forcing you to be close to me after all I have done to you. I do not deserve your friendship.”

“You're not forcing me, and... as for friendship, can I talk?” Sam shrugged, his mouth pulling down at the corners. “What about what I've done? And... that demon taint that was already there to begin with? Can you... how did you even get so you could stand being around me? And now, after I... after I unleashed the apocalypse...”

“I had a hand in my own apocalyptic unleashing, as you well know,” said Cas. “We... we are both flawed. But you... ever have you tried to make the right choice, even when the odds were stacked against you. What happened to you as an infant is no more your fault than it is your fault that you are tall, or... comely.”

Sam chuckled, finally relaxing. It was hard to focus on his guilt, or Cas's, with that beautiful face so close to his, that bare skin beneath his fingers... “Comely, huh? Hmmm...” Greatly daring, he caressed Cas's face, leaning forward so that they were pressed closer together. Cas's wide blue eyes opened with suprise, then...

Sam felt a distinctly _un_ sexy pressure in his belly. “Oh... uh, Cas... I really need to pee.”

Cas blinked. “Oh. My apologies. A moment, please.” He closed his eyes, and while Sam frowned in puzzlement, he noticed something out of the corner of his eye... the wall of the cabin he could see over Cas's shoulder now had a door in it that was not there before.

“Oh. Uh... thanks.” He released Cas reluctantly, crawled out of bed, careful lest he be shaky after sleeping for so long, and padded into the bathroom Cas had, apparently, just created.

It felt wrong to be out of Cas's arms, even after the short time (at least waking) he had spent there. He was shivering with cold almost immediately, and as he hastened to take care of business, the cold became more threatening, a blanket of dread thrown over him. When he turned on the faucet to wash his hands, he leapt back in horror when he realized it ran with blood. Blood dripped from his hands. He gasped, tried frantically to wipe it off, but it oozed thickly down his arms... and he heard laughter, wretchedly familiar laughter, right in his ear.

“No! NO! Get away from me...” He reached for the doorknob, only to find that there was no door... and there was Lucifer's face, right next to his.

“Miss me, Sammy? Awww... did you think you were about to get some _angel wuv?_ Well... I could've arranged that anytime, but you always turn me down!”

“NO! No, please... Cas! CAS!”

“I am sorry, Sam. It's all right. You are safe.”

Cas was there, in the doorway to the bathroom, and he locked Sam securely in his arms. “I am so sorry. I thought you would have enough time. I thought you were healed enough.” He held Sam, rubbed his back, pressing closer to him as Sam folded around him, squeezing Cas as tightly as he dared. Cas drew him across the room. He walked slowly, his legs trembling, until they stood next to the bed again. When Sam looked into his face again, Cas's expression was pained and sorrowful.

“Sam, I am afraid I have failed. You may never be free of Lucifer's voice unless I am touching you.”

Sam seized Cas's face in his hands, brought it close to his, and gasped, “Then never stop touching me.”

He kissed him, hard and deep and frantic, all hesitation dissolved in his desperate need.  His heart was still racing with fear from his encounter with Lucifer, but it was as though the fear had ratcheted his desire up to unbearable levels. His need to escape all that had come before, his need for Cas, for survival, for touch and love and healing, all combined into a lethal lust he could barely control.

He gasped as Cas moaned into his mouth and rose against him, pressing closer, his hands fumbling frantically to touch Sam everywhere he could reach. He stepped until they bumped the bed, then pushed Cas down on it, crawling on top of him. His erection strained at the thin white scrubs pants he wore, and he pressed it unashamedly against Cas's thighs, writhing against him as he sought his mouth again, enclosing, pulling at, nearly bruising those full, beautiful lips with his own, as he had done in his head countless times, never allowing these most secret fantasies to come to light. His tongue rasped against Cas's, drinking him in, tasting and seeking. Cas's head fit perfectly in Sam's huge hands, and he held it trapped, pausing only to lose himself in the beauty of Cas's uplifted expression, returning again and again to kiss him. He drew his lips over Cas's stubbled jaw, turning his cheek to rub against the roughness, nipping at his earlobe, then sucking hard but briefly on his neck. He dipped his head to taste Cas's throat, enclosing his Adam's apple with his lips, touching it with his tongue. He wanted to taste, suck, bite and caress everything.

Cas clung to him at first, but gradually his arms dropped to his side, and his head rolled back, submitting utterly to Sam's attentions. His breath had quickened to ragged gasps, and his mouth fell open in a nearly soundless moan when Sam dragged his teeth over his collarbone, then sucked his nipple briefly, teasing it roughly with his lips. 

Sam shifted his weight slightly, and groaned animalistically when he felt the hard, insistent bulge in Cas's pants against his belly. He reached between them, groping for Cas's hardness, enclosing him through the fabric, pulling urgently to find the shape of him. Cas writhed, almost struggling, and Sam let go, but only because it wasn't enough; he slid quickly down Cas's body and rubbed his face between Cas's legs, pushing at the fabric with his lips and teeth, reaching underneath to squeeze with one hand, fumbling for Cas's fly with the other.

“Sam!” Cas cried, helplessly, and Sam could not tell if he was aroused or alarmed, or both, so he came up to hold him, resting his head next to Cas's, in easy kissing distance, but forced himself not to kiss him long enough to say, “You all right, Cas? Is it... good? Does it feel good?” He tried to slow his breathing, tried to quell the frantic lust enough to focus on Cas's response.

“Oh, yes,” said Cas, a little tremulously. “I... I did not know the human body... had such capacity for joy and pleasure.”

Sam felt his face stretch in a tremendous grin, and he chuckled warmly, pressing his forehead to Cas's. “Oh, Cas,” he breathed. “You have no idea... but I'll show you...” He kissed him deeply, letting his tongue enter Cas's mouth slowly, gradually, as Cas opened to him and squeezed him tightly. “I have so much more to show you, and give you... if...”

He was blind with lust, helpless in his need, and did not know how or what to ask, but he couldn't, wouldn't go further without an answer. He kissed Cas again, desperately, and took his bottom lip between both of his, teased it with his tongue and sucked it gently. 

“Please,” was all he managed, finally.

“Yes.”

“You... you want it? You want me?”

“Yes, Sam. I want you very much. You may do as you like with me.”

It was immeasurably sexy that Cas still spoke in his odd, stilted way, even in the midst of lustful play, and Sam laughed, sweeping Cas up against him joyously. But all the gentle foreplay, the sensuous touches and Cas's intense, though submissive, responses, were driving Sam insane. The need to possess Cas completely was burning his brain. He nearly tore Cas's pants as he ripped them off, frantic to expose him entirely, and when he had, he was arrested by the intense, carnal beauty of him, his beautiful, lightly muscled chest, lean but slightly, delightfully soft belly, dark hair below his hipbones thickening between his legs, and his arousal standing up with painful urgency. The sight of this snapped Sam's control, and he attacked immediately, dipping his head to take Cas in his mouth, fondling his balls as he did, squeezing gently, sucking urgently, but only for a moment... as a pearl of wetness touched his tongue, Cas cried out his name. 

“Sam! Wait! Stop...” 

Sam pulled away, resting his head on Cas's pelvic bone, his long hair falling forward to caress Cas's hip. He breathed hard, hoarsely, unable to speak, and Cas said, “I know what you want. Take it. I think... you will find what you require in the nightstand next to you.”

In a haze, Sam glanced over. He blinked. There was now a nightstand on the side of the bed closest to him. He opened the drawer to find a tube of lube there. As he drew it out, Cas rolled over onto his belly, glancing back at Sam over his shoulder with a look of burning knowledge. Sam ripped his own pants off, and as quickly as he could, and very thoroughly, lubed them both up, pausing to press his fingers inside Cas, testing the opening to see if it could take him. But Cas's whimper of pleasure at the penetration sent Sam over the edge. He mounted him instantly, fumbling briefly and frantically until he was inside, and he cried out at the intensity of it, at the rising ecstacy, at Cas's sobs of pleasure, at the closeness and desperate love and terrifying, shattering intimacy. He reached around to take Cas in his hand and tried to move slowly, to attend to Cas's pleasure, but they were swept away in a frantic tide, and soon Cas was spurting hot into his hand, and Sam shouted his name as a wave of searing, blinding, cataclysmic ecstasy washed over him, a crashing wave and then another one, and another, as he pumped rapidly and helplessly. His vision went white with the last wave, and where his hands pressed Cas's back, suddenly there was another burst of light, and what he felt was not skin, but a ruffled, silken softness... feathers? He looked around wildly and saw, stretched out on either side of him from Cas, a pair of blindingly white wings. They took up the whole cabin. Doubting his eyes, he reached for them, burying his hands in the feathers that sprang from Cas's shoulder blades, feeling their pulsing, living heat. He held onto them helplessly as the fierce aftershocks rocked him, releasing them only when he collapsed forward onto Cas's back, his chest pressed to the feathers, his vision fading out, then his hearing, until gradually his own hoarse cries and Cas's soft, panting moans faded to silence.

He came back to himself sometime later, slowly growing aware of his weight across Cas's back, their legs tangled together, his hair falling across the nape of Cas's neck, the rhythm of Cas's breathing beneath him. He slid off slowly to curl on his side, drawing Cas close, turning him so he could look into his face. “I love you,” he said, and Cas sighed deeply, reaching for Sam and pulling him in for a kiss. It was the first time Cas had kissed him first, he realized. He lay still and reveled  in it, and Cas took his time, exploring Sam's mouth thoroughly, closing his eyes only after a long, slow moment of gazing at Sam penetratingly while he kissed him. Sam gazed back, lost in the crystalline blueness, and he thought that everything, hell and the apocalypse and all the pain, loss, terror and death, would be worth it if only this kiss could never end.

After several long, delightful minutes, it occured to him to look for Cas's wings again. There was no sign of them. Cas looked completely human, curled against him with rumpled hair and sweat  drying on his body. Sam caressed his shoulder blades for a moment, then:

“Cas? Was I just... high on pleasure, or did I actually see your wings?”

“I would guess that you saw them. I felt you touch them, at the moment of your release.”

“Is that... normal?”

“No. I do not believe so, though I have never had sexual relations before. But my wings-- they are not part of this vessel, and they do not exist on the plane that you normally inhabit. This place...” He gestured around at the cabin. “It exists in a sort of in-between place, outside of the normal flow of time, because I needed to bring you closer to the divine to heal you.” He turned his distant gaze to Sam, seriously. “The... connection that you and I forged with our pleasure together. I was afraid, for a moment, that it had released too much of the divine into you. That it would destroy you. But instead...” He touched Sam's face with infinite tenderness, caressing the stray tendrils of hair back from his cheek. “Instead, I believe it healed you. I can feel the place in you, the rent that was in your soul from the torments visited upon you in the cage... it is gone. And the place where Lucifer was able to reach you... gone, as well.” He smiled, but Sam, inches away, saw a sorrow deep enough to drown him there, regret going down beneath the floor of the ocean, reaching back through untold millenia. He gave a soft sound of protest and kissed Cas, suddenly, desperate to push it away, and though Cas kissed him back, Sam could still see the infinite echoes of sorrow spilling from those eyes.

He must have slept again, because he woke, feeling marvelously well, but thirsty and ravenously hungry. Some time must pass in this place, after all. To his relief, Cas was still in the bed next to him, and to his further relief, there was a tray of food next to his side of the bed, an old-fashioned silver platter with a cover and everything. He laughed at the sight of it, and sat up to eat. 

One of the items on the tray was a bowl of strawberries. As Sam finished the rest of his meal, he eyed them, then saw Cas eyeing _him._ He raised his eyebrows questioningly.

“I have heard that lovers like to feed these to each other,” he said, picking one up delicately by its stem.

Sam laughed. “Yeah, they do. You want to try some?”

He and Cas fed each other strawberries, caressing, kissing and laughing together, until things slowly grew more heated again. This time, as Sam reached between them to fondle Cas's erection again, he pressed his own against it, rubbing them together insistently, and said, “This time, I want you to be on top.”

Cas complied with surprising alacrity. As Sam knelt with his chest pressed to the bed, clutching the sheets as Cas clutched his hips, he felt another kind of deep, burning pleasure when Cas penetrated him, and he cried out and arched back, taking Cas as deeply as possible inside him. He was stretched, filled, again and again, and like before, he nearly lost consciousness in the white explosion of shocking climax that wracked him, and as he screamed Cas's name, he felt the warm silken touch of feathers again, enclosing him as Cas surged forward and he leaned back, cradling and coccooning him in unimaginably erotic sweetness while he lost everything, even his own name, in waves of purest joy and love.

When he came to himself again, he instantly felt that something had changed. Cas was utterly silent next to him, and Sam could swear his skin had gone cool. He rolled over in alarm and reached for him. Cas received his embrace somewhat distantly, though he stroked Sam's hair with tenderness. He was gazing into the distance, miles away.

“What's wrong, Cas?” Sam tried to swallow his anxiety, but his words came out shakily.

“Nothing.” Cas turned to him with a forced smile. “You are healed. You will be safe from Lucifer now, Sam, I know it. But I would like to try something.”

“Anything,” Sam said, frightened by the pleading tone in his own voice.

“Stand across the room from me.”

Puzzled, Sam complied, crawling shakily out of bed and standing in the far corner of the cabin.

“Now, close your eyes. Wait a moment.”

Sam sat still, dread pressing from his belly up into his throat. It was a different sort of dread from when he feared Lucifer would return. He didn't fear that anymore. What he feared now was the return of his life. Already he could see Dean, frantically making calls, driving the Impala recklessly as he searched for Sam... because he would be looking. He wasn't sure how he knew that Cas had not told Dean where they were, but he knew.

“What do you see, Sam? What do you feel?”

Sam swallowed. “I see Dean... looking for me. Freaking out. I feel... Cas, I feel like I can't bear for this to end, for it all to come back...”

“But it must come back. It was never gone. It is your life, your path. You must follow it, as I must follow mine.” 

He gazed at Sam silently for a moment. “You do not hear Lucifer. You do not feel the dread of him, though I am not touching you and am not even near you. When you were eating, and before that, for as long as I could bear while you were sleeping, I was not touching you. You are healed.”

Sam's eyes snapped open, and he saw it again, that ageless, endless sadness on Cas's face. “Come with me,” he said, desperately. He stepped back toward the bed, but stopped at something forbidding in Cas's posture. “Come back with me and Dean. We can face it together. We can fix it, maybe. If you're with me--”

“Dean will never accept me.”

“Yes, he will! Cas, the guy was a wreck when we thought you'd died! He might be pissed, but he still cares about you! If he can forgive me--”

“You are his brother. Another reason he will never accept me. When he finds that you have taken me as your lover--”

“Dean won't care about that! OK, he might be kind of a dick about it at first-- he's definitely gonna razz me about it-- but--”

“Sam.”

Sam choked on his words and on the tears that rose to his eyes. He could feel the finality of it, but he fought it desperately. “No! Cas!” He threw himself forward, into Cas's arms, looming over him and clutching him fiercely. “Cas, please! I need you! I can't do this without you!

“You do not need me,” Cas said softly. He reached up, drawing Sam's head down to his, and kissed him, so gently that Sam sobbed and clutched him harder. “I must try to undo some of the evil I have done, Sam. Perhaps... someday, if I succeed in that, and if you can tolerate my presence, we will see each other again.”

“Cas! Don't do this! Please! I love you!”

Cas lips quirked in his mysterious smile, lips pressed together, gazing up at him. He reached up with his hand.

“I love you too, Sam,” he said, and with the press of cool fingers to his forehead, suddenly, Sam's arms were empty.

***

Sam staggered, clutching at air, and fell to his knees. Gravel scraped them through the white scrubs he was dressed in again. The smell of exhaust and asphalt filled his nose. “No!” he shouted, scrubbing at the tears that poured down his face. “NO! Cas!”

He looked around wildly, scrambling drunkenly to his feet. “Cas, please! Please come back! I promise I--” 

He stopped, hearing a voice distantly calling his name. “Sam? Sammy!” 

He heard running footsteps pounding the gravel. He looked up, and Dean was running toward him. A confused glance around showed him that they were at a highway rest stop, one of those remote “points of interest” ones with a few sun-bleached picnic tables, scrubby weeds, and gravel paths leading nowhere.

“Sam!” Dean seized him by the shoulders, too roughly, and shook him. Sam cringed away, lifting his hand instinctively to shield his face, but Dean embraced him. “Sammy, I've been looking everywhere for you! You OK, man? Where did you go? How did you get out of the hospital? You were so messed up--” He released Sam abruptly. “Shit, your ribs-- did I hurt you?”

“No. No, Dean, I'm fine, I--” He stopped, overwhelmed with grief. He covered his face so that Dean wouldn't see him weep.

Dean was looking at him, discomfort warring with intense concern on his face. “Sam, what is it? Is it Lucifer?”

“No, he's gone. Forever, I think. I... Dean, Cas is alive. He healed me.”

“He's _alive_? That son of a bitch! And he fixed your ribs? What else did he do to you?”

Sam laughed wildly, scrubbing tears from his cheeks. “Trust me, Dean, you do NOT want me to answer that question.”

“What the hell, Sam? What's going on?”

“Dean, he... healed me. Of the hell connection, I mean. I'm OK, Lucifer can't get to me anymore. Cas said he wants to undo the evil he's done. He didn't tell me what happened to him, but...” He covered his face again, trying hard to fight the tide of tears. “Dean. Dammit...”

Dean clapped his shoulder, too hard again. “C'mon, Sammy, isn't this great news? You look much better-- you can get your shut-eye again, right? What's the matter with you?”

Sam sighed. He looked up at his brother, apprehensively. “Dean, I... kind of have a lot to tell you. Can we get out of here? I'm starving. Anything chasing us today?”

“Not right this second, bro. Sure, let's get you some grub.” He eyed Sam as he led the way to the Impala. “None of this explains what you're doing here. Did you send the signal?”

“What signal?”

“You know, the call pattern. I got three calls on the secret cell phone from the pay phone here, no messages. I figured it was you, telling me where you were. I drove like a bat outta hell for nine hours to get here.”

“How long was I gone?” 

“Almost two freakin' days, Sammy. Whaddya mean, how long? You don't remember? You ganked that ghost in the hospital, and some of the staff were demons, and I came to get you, but you just disappeared!”

“Why was I in the hospital?”

Dean eyed him again. Sam recognized it-- the 'is he insane, and if so, does he have his gun on him' look. He shook his head. “I guess-- Cas erased some of my memories.”

Dean shrugged, opening the Impala's door. “You're right. We do have a lot to talk about.”

“You have no idea,” said Sam to the sky, as he ducked his head and stepped back into his life, his heart heavy, and broken, but, for the first time since he could remember, filled with immeasurable, unquenchable hope.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first fanfic (in any fandom!) ever. I really enjoyed writing it and hope to write more! I hope I got all of the tags and formatting right.
> 
> This work now has a sequel, Our Own Special Alchemy: http://archiveofourown.org/works/732655


End file.
